Bittersweet
by Kuraun Kuraun
Summary: Allen/Lenalee: Allen had never liked memories. In fact, he had always preferred to push those to the back of his mind and leave them there. However, one afternoon certain ones are persistant in returning to him unwillingly.


_**Author's Note**_ - Hello, everyone! This, here, is another piece of writing of mine to contribute to the Allen/Lenalee fandom out there. Hope you all enjoy.

**Disclaimer** - I do not own any rights to _D. Gray-Man _or its characters. Those are property of Katsura Hoshino.

* * *

He'd never liked memories.

Maybe it was because the happy ones seemed too far away to grasp hold of, and the horrible ones you wanted to let go of embedded themselves deep within in your mind to the point that it was impossible to remove them. Eventually, the bad memories consumed you so much that you strived to never remember them again and rid it from your mind. He'd already done that once; Mana had wished for him to continue pressing forward and forget those days in the streets, so he had forced those memories to drain out of him. To be honest, the earliest memory he could recall clearly of his childhood was the first time he'd seen Mana entering that horrid circus, his beloved dog in tow.

But as much as he wished to let go of those memories with Mana and continue on, he couldn't. Was it him? Was it Mana? He lived for Mana. He fought for Mana. Mana. Everything was done for Mana. If he forgot his father, he forgot how to live.

Truthfully, there was no such thing as "one path". True, you could only take one path, but there were many to choose from. As a child, Allen had been taught this and guided along by Mana. When Mana died, his Master inherited that role. But now that his Master was gone, there was no one to take his place. Once again, he was left to fend for himself just like those days he could no longer remember.

His path he had chosen for himself seemed so clear to him before, but suddenly it felt dark and lonely, and he wasn't sure where exactly he was to continue on. Was he already deviating from it? Was if for the better? For the worst? So many questions loomed in his mind; questions with so little answers.

It was times like these that Mana would continue to push him along, grabbing him by the hand if need be, and repeating those same words he had always told him when the future appeared so grim and incapable to tearing itself away from the darkness. No one was doing that anymore, though, and the darkness was thickening, threatening to consume him whole.

So he did the only thing he could do. He had no idea how to deal with the stress, so he allowed the memories flood him, hoping that they would distract him if only for a few minutes. He sat on his bed, fingering his suit case that kept the few belongings he'd ever owned in his entire life. Link was reading a book on the other end of the room. Oftentimes, he found himself forgetting the older man's purpose for being here and had began thinking of him as more of a roommate.

It was then as he was looking through his belongings that he realized all he really had left were the juggling balls he and Mana had used. Quite a few of them were no longer in their excelent shape; some were ripped, dirty, or no longer had that shine Mana had worked so hard to maintain. For a while, he rubbed at Mana's favorite ball; the one he'd always used with his dog but couldn't bring himself to use it again after Cosimo had killed him. No matter how many times he tried to wipe the stains off of it, though, it still stood there, as though to mock his failure.

"Allen?"

The voice drove him from his thoughts, and he was confused to see Lenalee standing in the doorway, a concerned look on her face, and a surprised Link holding open the door. It was odd. He hadn't even heard her knock.

Lenalee and Link exchanged a few words before Link left the room, leaving them both alone. At first, he was absolutely stunned, but as Lenalee stepped into the room, he forced himself to let go of the juggling ball that was in his hands and stand.

"Lenalee?"

For a while, Lenalee said nothing, and only looked at him. Even as she advanced towards him, she continued to wear that frown of her's, making him wonder if she was mad at him. There was no look of fury on her face, but rather... concern?

"Are you okay, Allen?" He was cornered, it felt like. He still didn't want to have to rely on people; it seemed rude of him. "You haven't been acting quite yourself."

He gulped. This wasn't the first time she'd asked him this. If he remembered correctly, she'd asked him the same question a few weeks ago, when he woke up in his room just after he'd accidentally stabbed himself with the Sword of Exorcism.

"Of course," he replied, truthfully. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She didn't reply right away, and seemed to be struggling to explain in words. "I... I can't explain it," she finally told him. "The way you were behaving, I guess. Like when you were attending to those juggling balls a few minutes ago when I came. Link was trying to talk to you, but you seemed really out of it. Are you tired or something?"

"No." he told her in response, sitting down on his bed. Guilt was beginning to claw at him the more he tried to brush her off, though, so he let out a sigh and padded the covers next to him. Once she sat down, he told her gently. "I assure you, Lenalee, that I'm fine. I've just been thinking a lot lately, that's all..."

"About what?"

He couldn't explain the feeling, but somehow it was comforting to speak with her. "Mana, my foster father." Embarassed, he held up one of the juggling balls, "and about all the stains on his juggling balls. I should've taken better care of them... now they're all dirty and--" Allen stopped as he felt Lenalee wrap her hand around his, and after a few moments he set the ball down, looking at her.

She smiled at him. "They're not in bad condition, Allen." She released his hand, moving to pick up one of the balls, but paused to look at him. "May I?" Once he nodded his head, she picked up the ball; it was the one with the stars on them, Mana's dog's favorite. "Sometimes stains can mark a memory, bad or good." She must've seen that he wasn't convinced, because she smiled wider. "Really, Allen. See this scar right here?" She pointed to one on her knee. "I got that on my first mission with Lavi. I got knocked into some rocks and cut my knee on it."

Slowly, he reached forward, gently brushing his fingers over her skin where the scar was. He flinched, however, as he felt her fingers brush over his own scar on his face, tracing the mark down his cheek. "What do scars have to do with stains, though?"

"Every stain has a memory," she told him again. "Have you ever noticed that stain on Jerry's apron? Well, Lavi was experimenting with one of the kitchen supplies and ended up spraying a bunch of frosting at him a few years ago." She chuckled at the memory. "So you don't have to be sad because something isn't as perfect as it was before."

Again, he picked up the juggling ball, studying it. While the stains on the juggling ball would likely remind Mana of his dog's death, it reminded him of when he was finally accepted by someone for the first time. It brought him back to his first memory. Once again, however, unwanted memories returned to him and he clenched the ball tightly, gritting his teeth.

"Did..." he struggled for words, "I ever tell you about Mana?"

It was a stupid question to ask. Of course he never had. No one knew about Mana. Selfishly, he'd allowed Mana's good deeds disappear from this world, too. But he wouldn't allow himself to act this way anymore. Even if it was just one person. Even if it was the girl who he cared for probably just as much as he cared for Mana, he would open up.

"It's okay," she replied. Somehow, she could always read his emotions like a book. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Allen."

"But I want to," he replied without hesitation. "May I?"

Lenalee smiled at him warmly, sitting down beside him on the bed and holding his hand gently. "Please tell me."

"I was admissioned into child labor in a circus before I met Mana," he said, trying to remember the details. "I don't remember much about it, honestly. I worked long hours, got hurt a lot, and still struggled to make a living." He could tell she was trying not to cry, so he smiled. "I was lucky, though. Mana was a traveling clown and passed between circuses frequently. I hated being where I was, so I agreed to go with him."

"But you lost him," she said when he hesitated.

He nodded. "Yes. I was devastated and had no place to go to. There was no reason for me to live anymore, it had seemed. The Earl... he... he found me sitting beside his grave." There was a small pause as she squeezed his hand tighter, bitting her lip. "He did what he does, and I fell for it." That was a given. What grieving human _didn't_ fall for it? "My Innocence saved him," he said, smiling lightly as he held up his left hand. "It activated and freed him for me after he cursed me."

Lenalee held a hand in front of her mouth, eyes wide as tears slowly leaked out of it. "I'm so sorry," she spoke softly, her entire body shaking as she attempted to keep herself at bay, "I shouldn't have said all of those things. Especially about hating your eye--"

She was silenced when he pulled her into a hug. "It's okay," he replied with a smile. "I'm not offended. I'm grateful to have met someone like you who doesn't think I'm a freak."

He blinked as she reached forward, letting go of his right hand to grab his left. "They're just jerks," she told him. "There's nothing wrong with your arm. In fact, I think it's very pretty." Here, she paused to lean forward and kiss his cheek where his scar was located. "And Mana would agree with me too, I think."

Her words made him smile, a real one; something only Mana had ever made him capable of doing. It was surprising to find that she was the only one who could make him feel better about anything during his darkest hours. It seemed that even when the world around them was falling apart, and even when she herself did not truly understand what was happening within the walls of their organization, that she was still able to keep walking and pull her along with him.

"Thank you, Lenalee."

She blinked questionably at him, but her smile was still there, warming every part of him. "For what, Allen?"

He gently took hold of a lock of her hair, brushing his fingers over it smoothly. "For always being you," he replied. "And never losing faith in me even when others did."

"I will always be here," she replied. "No matter what. And so will Kanda and Lavi and my brother and the rest of us who care for you." She paused, picking up a juggling ball and pressing it into his hand. "Mana is too, I believe. So never let them win, Allen, and let us fight alongside you no matter what."

"I wish you could've met Mana," he replied, a small grin tracing his features. "He would've liked you a lot."

Lenalee smiled, blushing slightly.

"I think I would too." 


End file.
